


Bodyguard

by i_dreamthedream



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 06:54:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4696409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_dreamthedream/pseuds/i_dreamthedream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Grantaire is Enjolras' hired bodyguard.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bodyguard

**Author's Note:**

> First time I write for this fandom, hopefully it won't be too bad...

Grantaire had always known that becoming a bodyguard was not a good career plan for him. But it was a stable source of income, unlike his arts selling. So when Bahorel had told him that his agency was recruiting, he went for it. It went on quite okay for a while until this. This job wasn’t supposed to be different. It was just about assuring some local politician’s safety during his latest campaign. Plain and simple.

  
Except it was not. That local guy he was supposed to look after? He was the most infuriating yet beautiful man Grantaire had ever met. It was not only his looks – though Grantaire definitely wanted to have a closer look at this blond hair – he was beautiful because he was a believer, an idealist. The guy was a fucking optimist! Grantaire had never seen someone like him and his staff team. None of them were professional politician per se. They were lawyers for most of them but there were also a doctor, a poet and a factory worker. All of them were painfully in love with their Cause. Grantaire’s realist and mostly cynical mind was sorry for them, yet his heart wished for them to succeed. If only, because he had grown quite fond of them, and also because he desperately wanted to see Enjolras – his damn name was Enjolras! – giving his victory speech. He was already passionate while giving his usual ones and Grantaire was sure there would be something glorious to be drawn there.

  
Because yes, Grantaire had a minor crush on a guy. Fine a major crush. But he had it all under control thank you very much. Or so he thought.

  
One night he was walking Enjolras home after a meeting when suddenly a bunch of guys showed up around a corner of a street. Now it was obvious that Enjolras had made a lot of enemies while becoming important in local politics. He was an anti-conformist, both because of what he stood for and who he was. He was one of the few political figures being openly bisexual in the country. And those guys who had them cornered? Well the most accurate term to describe them was homophobic arseholes.  
Which was why as soon as Grantaire heard the word “faggot” out of their mouths, he snapped. He rushed toward them like a fury and knocked two of them down before the third one punched him in the face, hard. Grantaire stumbled on his feet but didn’t miss the way Enjolras threw his fist at the same guy. Somehow, they managed to come back to Bahorel’s flat, which was the closest place Grantaire could think of. Bahorel let them in and immediately went to get some gaze to cover his friend’s nose.

  
“Let me,” Enjolras told him when he came back from the bathroom. Bahorel handed him the gaze and retreated to the kitchen, leaving the two sitting alone on his couch.

Enjolras started to clean Grantaire’s wound with gentle fingers. His nose had stopped bleeding and it looked like it wasn’t broken. Enjolras was carefully examining the other man’s eyebrows when he said: “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“That’s my job,” replied Grantaire automatically.

“Well it was stupid to go at one against three! You could’ve gotten seriously hurt!” Enjolras shot back, clearly shocked.

“I did it to protect you,” Grantaire grumbled. He suddenly realized that Enjolras’ hands were shaking. “Hey…” he said by taking his hands in his own, “it’s okay, I’m alright.”

“I’m sorry,” Enjolras sighed heavily. Silence fell upon them while their hands were still holding.

“You’re bleeding too,” Grantaire suddenly said, examining Enjolras’ knuckles.

“Yeah, it must be when I punched the jackass who did that to you,” Enjolras shrugged.

“Well that was very stupid too!” Grantaire shouted, angrily. “I’m supposed to protect you, not the other way around!”

“What was I suppose to do?” Enjolras shouted right back at him. “Just stand here while one of my friend was beaten up?”

Whatever answer Grantaire had prepared was swallowed by surprise. “You…” he stammered, “you think we’re friend?”

“You don’t?”

Grantaire seemed to have lost any ability to use words. He still had Enjolras’ hand in his and his grip was firm.

“Grantaire, I consider you a good friend,” Enjolras said with sincerity. “I mean, we’ve spent lots of time together these past few weeks and even though we don’t know each other very well, I value your opinion very much.”

“What do you mean my opinion, I’ve never…?”

“Please,” Enjolras had an easy smile. “You don’t need actual words to express how you feel!”

Grantaire’s eyes went wide. His hold on Enjolras’ hand, if possible, tightened. Could it be?

“And I…” Grantaire had never seen the other man struggling with his words. “I know I haven’t given you any reason to believe that I might… But…”

Grantaire’s heart was pounding in his chest. He felt like he was on the verge of passing out, his head was dizzy and it had nothing to do with the punch he had taken earlier.

“I wanted to wait till the campaign was over to ask you out,” he confessed, “wait until the moment you would not see me as you client.”

Grantaire still didn’t answer; he just kept staring at Enjolras. “Please say something,” Enjolras begged him.

But Grantaire didn’t trust himself to speak. Without knowing where his sudden bravery came from; he leaned down, closed his eyes and delicately put his lips on Enjolras’.  
The other man kissed him back slowly, gently. Grantaire felt like there was music in his mind. Enjolras sighed in the kiss and slightly parted his lips. Grantaire took advantage of the situation to lick his way into Enjolras’ mouth. Their tongues met and it was like fireworks. Grantaire moaned into the kiss while Enjolras slipped in his dark curls the hand Grantaire wasn’t holding. Enjolras pulled him closed but it was too uncomfortable next to each other on the couch so Grantaire straddled him to kiss him harder. When they stopped kissing, breathless, Grantaire rested his forehead on Enjolras’.

“That was…” Enjolras whispered, “better than anything you could’ve said.”

Grantaire smiled, “Well you said it yourself, I don’t need words to express how I feel.”

Enjolras laughed, lightly and a little hysterical. It was the most beautiful thing Grantaire had ever had the privilege to see. He began to press open-mouthed kisses on Enjolras’ throat and then up to his ears. Enjolras tilted his head to give him better access and exhaled deeply. “I’d like to hear you say it though,” he murmured in the quietness of the room.

“Mmh?” Grantaire said against his skin.

“Grantaire,” Enjolras reluctantly pulled himself away from him and put his hands on both sides of his face. “Say it!”

“You’re an idiot,” Grantaire replied immediately, “but I really like you.”

Enjolras’ entire face lightened, and he captured Grantaire mouth again, fiercely.

“I like you so much,” he breathed against his lips. And Grantaire could not do anything else but holding on to him, tight.

*

Grantaire was right: Enjolras was glorious when he gave his victory speech but it was nothing compared to the way he grabbed him after it, shoved him against a wall and kissed him furiously.


End file.
